


Dreams can be nightmares too

by Hopeful_monster



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Character Interpretation, Canon Divergence at Episode 4, F/F, Mental Institutions, Rachel Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-11-13 06:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_monster/pseuds/Hopeful_monster
Summary: The multiverse theory states that there are infinite universes where other possible evens occur. Explore a universe where Nathan gave Rachel too little rather than too much.





	1. Chapter 1

 

April 23, 2013 – The Dark Room

 

Nathan Prescott was not happy. His emotions waved between a fearful panic and an unfocused anger at the world and how unfair his life was as he paced around the the Dark Room. Is attempt at showing his mentor how much he had progressed had backfired hideously and the silent, crumbled form of Rachel mocked him.

 

“Stay cool, you can figure this out.” He racked his brain for some solution, but all his options seemed to lead to either prison or death. All but one, that one. The last resort and though he hated the idea it had the best outcome and he would have to live with the consequences. He picked up his phone and made the call. After a few rings the call was picked up. “Hey, Dad....”

 

October 10, 2013 – The Dark Room

 

Max was not happy as she searched the Dark Room. While she felt she was reaching the end of the investigation, she was also worried as to what would happen when they found Rachel. Chloe would be happy, over the moon to be sure, but where would that leave her? Her feelings for Chloe were growing and she found it increasingly difficult to say they were just the feelings of a friend. However Chloe's single minded fixation on finding Rachel made her doubt that even if she confessed that the feelings would be reciprocated. And if they found her? Would Chloe disappear to LA with Rachel. Sure it would be karmicly balanced if Chloe abandoned her but she still didn't like the thought.

 

It also didn't help her mod that this place was fucking creepy. She had scanned the place, as Chloe searched a cupboard, and seen nothing of note. A few letters , some sweet camera and printing equipment, a lot of food, and several tortured pictures and prints (though whether the subject, photographer or viewer were the ones supposed to be tortured she couldn't tell), so she fired up the computer worth more that the contents of her room in Blackwell and was greeted by NeoVault showing a truly disturbing picture of a bound and obliviously drugged Kate. A prayed whisper escaped her, 'Oh my god, no...'

 

She then opened up the emails to find an odd assortment of emails. Most were seemingly business invoices but none listed what was being bought or sold. The only ones that seemed out of place were those from something called 'Shady Oaks Mental Health Centre'. The emails were a mix of monthly invoices and medical reports for someone called Rose Jefferson. She opened one up and skimmed over it as a lot of the medical jargon went over her head. The summary however grabbed her attention.

 

_After 6 months Rose's condition has not improved. She still claims to neither be Rose Jefferson nor your niece. She clings to the concept that she was a student at the school you work in and that you were in a relationship. She also still claims to have been abducted by a fellow student. Interestingly she has attached a name to the student, Nathan Prescott. We believe that she has taken the name form a list of our charitable donors._

 

_Her violent behaviour to some of the members of staff is also a major issue. While she hasn't injured any of the other patients she continues to threaten members of staff and has twice more attacked the orderlies. As she has show such resistance to both therapy and medication we may have to resort to more drastic methods. We will keep you appraised of any changes in her condition and options for future treatments._

 

Max's heart started beating faster as she read, then scrolled down the first message. It was dated the day after Rachel disappeared and spoke of an emergency admission.

 

“Chloe I think I've found something.” Max said in an uneven voice, wavering due to her uncertainty and her mixed feelings about finding Rachel. Chloe looked up hopefully and almost bounded over to look at the computer, “I looks like someone was put in a mental institute just after Rachel went missing.”

 

Chloe seemly devoured the information as she hunched over the screen and her expression became more and more hopeful. By the time she had finished she was practically vibrating, singing “We've found her, we've found her.”

 

Chloe quickly straightened up, turned grabbed Max by the shoulders and kissed her on the lips before dragging her out of the Dark Room and back to the truck. Max stumbled after her dazed, partly by Chloe's speed and enthusiasm but mainly by the kiss. It was like it had sucked the breath from her body, leaving her breathless and weak. But it also left her feeling a little hollow, empty as the nagging doubt that everything was going to be over when they found Chloe's angel.

 

As they got into the beat up pickup Max looked up the hospital on her phone. It was over two hours away but according to the website offered 'expert psychiatrists & _mental_ health treatments in a remote and peaceful centre to help when you or someone you love experiences difficulties with _mental_ health concerns'.

 

Chloe drove like a woman possessed, constantly chattering about how great life was going to be once Rachel was back, what they would do and where they would go. Max said little except for twice when she had to rewind, once to prevent Chloe from being stopped by the police for speeding and once when they swerved to miss a deer and ended up in a ditch. The further they drove the more unease Max became.

 

 

October 11, 2013

Shady Oaks Mental Health Centre, 'Rose Jefferson's' Room

 

'Rose Jefferson' was not happy. She hadn't been happy since she had accepted a drink for that little cunt weasel over six months ago then woken up as he was leering over her taking photo's as she was bound and helpless. Despite her restraints she managed to get a few hits in before she got knocked out again. When she woke again she was in this hell hole. While normally she wouldn't mind having stronger drugs than Frank would sell, but these drugs were knocking her out to the point of immobility. This was often when some of the orderlies woils try to feel her up and when she fought back she got put in a straight jacket for a week. Worst of all everyone kept trying to tell her she was Jefferson's niece. Urgh, She was into some kinky stuff but she never got the whole incest thing.

 

Her mood was also not helped by the fact that it was late and she couldn't sleep. If she was out of this place she would probably be partying for another few hours, but in here she did nothing all day then was expected to sleep all night. She lay on her bed fuming when she heard something in the corridor. It was not a normal night time sound, like one of the orderlies doing the rounds or one of the bloody owls hooting, but something seemed familiar about it. Getting out for bed she padded over to the door and looked out the little window that denied her any privacy during her day.

 

She couldn't see anything in the corridor but she though she saw something out the window, followed by a flash. She counted to see how far way the lightning had struck, but heard no thunder. She gave up counting at about 30 seconds as she caught a glimpse of movement and was suprised to see someone in the corridor by the window. The door to the corridor was in the opposite direction and none of the cell doors had opened so where did they come from? 'Rose's' confusion and excitement grew as the figure opened the window and helped someone else in.

 

Now they were in the corridor she could hear partial whispers from the pair, first and shorter of the two said something but “... heavy ass... room... find” was all she could pick up. The second to enter and taller of the two started whispered something about ninja more loudly before being hushed, but there was something familiar about the voice. However Rachel did also notice that both voices were feminine and young, but couldn't place them. Damn the drugs, they made it hard to think let alone remember anything clearly.

 

The pair began looking at the name tags of the cells, obviously using cell phones as flash lights. 'Rose' debated asking these intruders for help. While she was desperate to escape this place she was not sure if she could trust these strangers. As her internal argument raged a light flashed over her door, and someone whispered “Found her room!”

 

As the fact they were looking for her sunk in, the light spilled into the room through the door's window and reflected of the white walls bathing everything with a ghostly glow, but enough light bounced back to the girl holding the phone for 'Rose' to get a look at her. Dark hair, black or brown, framed an open and expressive face covered in freckles a clear blue eyes that shone in the reflected light. She was kinda cute but not really to her taste., but maybe it was the the lighting which illuminated her face from below giving her an other worldly, not quite human visage.

 

The other person ran to the door given the noise and more light entered the room, but 'Rose' couldn't see them. A single, hopeful word followed. “Rachel? Are you there?”

 

Tears started to leak from Rachel's eyes as for the first time in 6 months someone used her real name. She looked out and saw the second person, Clara... no, Claire, No no damn drugs... “Chloe?”

 

The blue haired punk looked back, eyes wet with tears and a huge smile spreading across her face. With a cocky voice that threatened to break any moment she said “I'm here to rescue you.”

 

The smaller girl spoke up, breaking spell that had Chloe and Rachel staring at each other. “ Come on Chloe Skywalker, we still have to open the door.”

 

The slight snark in the nerd's voice made Rachel wonder what was off but it was lost on Chloe, who replied, “Can't you use the same ninja trick that got us into Well's office?”

 

“ I'm sorry I forgot my bomb making kit back at Blackwell, sorry.” she replied in a passive aggressive tone. Rachel's mind boggled, Chloe had always been a bit rough but not only had she broken in the headmaster's office but had used explosives. Damn.

 

“You used explosives? ...Cool, you gotta show me!” Even in the poor light and behind the tears Rachel could see the glint of more mischief in Chloe's eye. It was damped by the shush from the brunette. Rachel however had other concerns, “ I don't care how but GET ME OUT OF HERE”

The last 5 works, although said quietly, were spoken with enough force to scare the two girls back a little. Chloe quickly recovered but the other girl eyed her warily before asking the obvious question nodding at the door, “Where are the keys?”

 

“The bastard orderlies have them, the doc's too I guess. Have a look in the nurses station.” She nodded but as the pair started wandering in that direction panic gripped her and she cried out “ No, please don't leave me. I can't be alone again. They'll tell me it was all a dream, and I'm really Rose Jefferson.”

 

Chloe rushed back to the door and started to try and calm and comfort her. Whispering about never leaving her side again, while the shorter one gave a put upon sigh and sloped off. A few minutes later she returned. She explained what had happened and how Max (the shorter girl) and her had tracked down the clues leading to this place. A few minutes later she returned and jingled the keys in front of Chloe. “Splish Slash?”

 

Rachel was puzzled by this but Chloe seemed to get the joke and after a couple of attempts they found the right one and pulled the door open. Chloe immediately launched into a bone breaking hug and just held her for a moment while Max held back nervously hugging herself before said, “Lets get out of this creepy place.”

 

“Best fucking idea I've heard all year.” Rachel agreed and stepped out into the corridor but as they all turned to the open window where the entered from only to see a flash-light dancing around it form the outside. “Shit, erh.. run.”

 

Like a flock of birds the three girls turn and ran in the opposite direction, and were quickly stopped by the door locking off the ward. Max lifted the keys then seemed to … glitch. She was in the same place but she had changed position without moving. The damn drugs were still messing with her mind but as Max opened the door with the first key maybe her luck was trying to make up for it.

 

Once through the door they continued quickly but with an effort to be more quiet in their movement, but Rachel noticed that when they got to a junction Chloe looked to Max for which way to go. However by the third or forth choice Max was beginning to look a little unsteady and the suddenly grabbed them and weakly tried to put them into an alcove. Chloe took the hint and moved in but Rachel didn't see the point so tried to move forward. Chloe pulled her in just as a beam of light shone down the corridor. How had the scrawny brunette known. There was no sound, no hint it was coming, but she had know it was going to happen. Looking at her more carefully she saw her nodding and silently counting then look out as the light returned. She then wearily got out and started trudging forward.

 

When they got to what was obviously a door that lead to visitor areas and the outside their luck ran out. None of the keys Max had found opened the door and Rachel started to panic, “No, we're so close. I gotta get out of here. I can't stay another minute here.”

 

she barged past the two other girls and started to try and force the door open with no success, swearing, cursing and crying louder as the door refused to budge. The door then clicked and swung away from her revealing Max standing there. Rachel swung around to look next to her where she had last seen Max as she had pushed past her to find it empty. Her panic evaporated replaced by mind blanking confusion. She spluttered out some what's, how's, and when's before Chloe pulled her forward saying “ I'll explain later, let's go.”

As the moved off she kept a close eye on Max, but all she saw was the girl slowing down as the moved towards the exit. As they turned and saw a way out Max stumbled and only prevented herself from falling but holding on to the corner. In the moonlight and emergency lighting, Rachel could see a dark stain dripping from her nose. She hissed out to Chloe who turned and grabbed Max as she slowly slid to the floor.

 

“Shit, not again. Come on Rachel help me get her up so we can get out of here.” The bluenette ducked under Max's arm and started lifting her up. Despite her reservations, Rachel took the other arm and they slowly made their way to the door. Chloe peered out, then pushed the door open only to be greeted the piercing wail of an alarm. The torrent of profanities that would make a sailor blush could be heard above the din of the alarm followed by the simple command of “RUN!”.  


Despite the hour, it was abnormally bright as they ran to the trees as Chloe shouting directions. Even under the large oaks, the moon cast enough light for Rachel to make out Chloe's battered old pick up. After piling the semi-conscious girl Rachel jumped in as Chloe ran around the truck to get in the driver's seat. Looking behind Rachel could see the flashlights moving towards them. She jumped as Chloe slammed her door shut, and prayed that this rusted hunk of junk would move. To her surprise, it roared to life first time and Chloe drove away from the centre and into the bright light of the two moons.

Rachel was happy.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Unknown Time, Unknown Place

 

It had all been a dream. Rachel could feel the retrains holding her to the bed and the uncomfortable seam of her hospital gown dig into her skin. She could have wept but it would have done no good and it would have given that doctor more to scribble on his little notebook. God, she wanted to burn that book in front of him and shove it up his...

 

"r-r-r-ronc shshshsh r-r-r-ronc" the sound came from right by her ear a scared the life out of her. Rachel's eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar ceiling and sat up with a start, the restraint falling away like water. She scanned the room she was in to see a simple and slightly run down motel room. A slumbering Chloe had been snuggling into her and the arm that had been across he chest now pooled in her lap. In the other bed, Max hadn't moved since they placed her there last night. She still looked pale but didn't seem to be bleeding from her nose any more.

 

It was then when all of the last night's escape came flooding back. Breaking out of her cell, Max's uncanny knowledge as they wandered through the corridors, her teleporting through the door and how quickly everything fell apart after she passed out. The drive away also was … weird.

 

October 10, 2013

Washington State Route 4, Chloe's Truck

 

She had wept with joy for the first 15 minutes or so. Chloe tried to comfort her but was trying to get as far away from the place as possible. After Rachel had settled down she cursed all those who had sent her there, everyone who worked at the hospital, everyone who hadn't found her and even Chloe for not coming sooner. The bluenette swore back, saying she had been looking since Rachel had gone missing but there wasn't really any malice in Chloe's curses. She talked of posters plastered across the Bay, getting into debt with Frank to finance her search, getting drugged and nearly shot by Nathan when she tried to find out more. By the end of her explanation both of the girls were crying and apologising profusely.

 

The noise must have got through to Max who groaned and stirred. Chloe instantly forgot the arguments and tears to focus on the semi-conscious brunette next to her. Rachel had laughed as it was just as she remembered the punk. She was a binary creature hot or cold, happy or raging, in perpetual motion or inert and rarely anything in between. However, this focused Rachel on Max as well and her … Rachel struggled for the right word... abilities? Chloe fussed over the smaller girl like a mother hen, whose only vaguely coherent response was “ M shleepy.” to the question of “Are you alright?” before she slumped again into what seemed a more natural sleep.

 

Rachel stared at the unimposing girl next to her and asked the question that had been on her mind since she first saw Max. “Who is she?”

 

Chloe pounced on the question “She's Max. She was my best friend when we were kids but she left just after my dad died, remember?”

 

Rachel rolled her eyes. Why did everyone she fuck with expect her to recall every conversation they had ever had, every part of their life they shared with her? She remembered that Chloe had felt abandoned when they had met, but she had pegged most of that on the death of the girl's dad. Thought that sense of abandonment had given Rachel a great deal of leverage over Chloe and played right she could use it to get her do just about anything. However, she showed her irritation and hid her ignorance by saying, “ You failed to mention that she could use explosives, see the future and fucking teleport.”

 

Chloe had the audacity to sound surprised that Rachel had mentioned those things, “ Oh that? Well that's all kinds of hella cool newness, man, I didn't even know about the explosives until now, but when we get home I'm gonna get her to show me. Sound fun. ”

 

Rachel's mind boggled of all things she had mentioned, that minor thing was what she picked up on? Trying to keep her cool she kept her reply short, “ And the rest?”

 

Rachel was surprised to see Chloe go quiet, her exuberance over potential explosive damped, as she stared at the dark road ahead. Rachel wondered what this switch meant. Even in the unusually bright moonlight, Rachel could not read the punk. She could tell it wasn't fear or panic but something else. It was the bluenette's quick glance at Max's slumbering form that gave it away. Concern. She was worried about Max. Finally, in a hushed voice, she replied, “She can't do all the other stuff.”

 

Chloe would never make a good poker player, Rachel thought. While there was an element of truth in what was saying, there was a huge truth being left untold. Rachel knew, however, that just by waiting for the truth would come out, but what surprised her was that it took another half hour or so of silent driving and subdued small talk before Chloe finally simply said while looking at Max, “She can go back in time.”

 

Rachel mind whirled with hundreds of disparate thoughts but before she could vocalise any of them the truck swerved off the road and into the parking lot of a Motel. She said she was going to get a room and turned away quickly, trying not to catch Rachel's eyes or look at Max. As Chloe trudged way Rachel looked between the bluenette and brunette. Once Chloe disappeared into the office the blonde looked down at the sleeping form and muttered, “What drug is Chloe on and where can I get some?”

 

Unsurprisingly Max said nothing, but Rachel began to wonder. Could this unassuming girl really control time? Chloe was convinced and it could possibly explain what she had seen in the hospital, but even saying it in her head sounded dumb. This kinda shit didn't happen... just like getting kidnapped and sent to a Looney bin. She sighed, she was far too sober to be trying to think about shit like this. She reached into the glove box and pulled out the first aid kit in which she found a slightly bend, but still smokable, joint.

 

Lighting it up and inhaling deeply she felt much better, the stress and confusion of the last few … hours, months... time, whatever disappearing in the bluey-grey smoke. It was then that the surreality of her situation hit. Here she was, dressed in hospital scrubs smoking weed next to a car containing a fainting, time travelling hipster was bleeding from her brain, while a blue haired punk with abandonment issues got them a room in a seedy motel off the highway. It sounded like a bad anime series she'd watch while stoned. And now she was stoned, it made sense in a nonsensical kind of way. She started giggling at how wonderfully circular that though was. Being stoned in a show she would watch stoned.

 

She was still giggling when Chloe came out of the office to ask if Max was awake as she was short of cash for a room. Ducking into the cab she instantly saw the brunette was still sleeping, but a practised nudge from Rachel was just enough to wake her but not enough to make it seem like she had. Max groggily stirred, mumbling something unrecognisable before looking up. She looked at Rachel still half asleep with a puzzled expression. “Rachel?”

 

“Yes sweetie, nice to meet you. Thanks for the rescue but since we're over the border we've stopped for the night.” Rachel smiled lightly, tired from the lack of sleep and coming down from the adrenalin high of their escape. “Problem is Chloe needs some cash to get us a room.”

 

Still mazed by sleep and what ever caused her blackout, she fumbled with the seatbelt before realising it wasn't wearing one. As she butt shuffled her way to the open door Rachel noticed how much blood had poured from her nose. Her shirt was speckled with dark drops, and below her nose the blood had flowed and dried into a grim moustache. She looked like a 14-year-old boy who had drawn on facial hair to try and look older. Rachel giggled then pointed and said, “You've got red on you.”

 

After a moment's puzzlement, Max got the reference and gave a weak grin as she wiped her nose. Rachel straightened and called out to Chloe that Max was on her way. As the brunette unsteadily made her way to the reception, Rachel realise this was the first time she was free and by herself. She just sat there looking up at the stars, smoking and letting the cool breeze waft over her and for the first time in 6 months she felt at peace.

 

A few minutes later the two came back, but Max was leaning on Chloe a bit. She was still looking dazed but a bit steadier. They waved her over and started heading to the room. Once inside Max nearly collapsed onto one of the beds. She looked like she would fall asleep any moment but looked at Chloe and said, “ Do you think we should tell someone about all this?”

 

Chloe looked puzzled, “Why? Rachel is safe, no one knows where we are, and we have a place for the night.”

 

Rachel and Max seeming rolled their eyes in unison, however, Rachel spoke first, “ and the dick heads that did this are probably running around trying to find me as well as covering up any evidence.”

 

While Max nodded, Chloe though on this eventually said, “Well we can't go to the police, we don't know how far the Prescunt's reach extends, and if we call higher up I doubt anyone would take use seriously. I don't think the press would do anything at this hour of the night even if they did believe us.”

 

“My parents would be too far away to do anything useful, and they'd probably just call the cops who you guys seem to think are on the take.” Both the older girls, paused and started pacing trying to think of what they could do. Max lay on the bed and then seeming had a brain wave. She reached into her messenger bag pulling out her phone and a small booklet Rachel recognised as the Blackwell Academy guide book. She quickly typed out a text message and sent. With a tired but proud smile she said “Done.”

 

“You forgot the one other person who was hunting for Rachel.” She held up her phone to the other two to show the message she had typed.

 

 

 
    
    
     Mr. Madsen. You're after Rachel Amber. She's safe now but the guilty are still free.
     Look at the Dark Room is under the Prescott's' farmhouse. You know the location.
     They're sick and dangerous. Stop them.

 

October 11, 2013

Route 101, Motel Norman

 

Rachel extracted herself from the tangle of Chloe's limbs and looked at the cheap clock's red display. It was 8:43. She had slept in. She could sleep in. She wouldn't have to eat at 8:30 every morning and then pills at 9. She was free. She could eat what and whenever she wanted, she could … go to the toilet. So much for total freedom. By the time she had finished relieving herself Chloe was awake. She nodded to the door and headed outside Rachel guessed so Max could continue sleeping. Once outside she lit a cigarette and offered one to Rachel who took her up on the offer. After taking a deep drag Chloe asked her “ So what do you want to do now?”

 

Rachel took another drag while she thought. “ Well I really want to call my dad as soon as possible, but I'd like to get out of these rags, have a shower and a decent meal.”

 

“Shit, yeah. Your parents are gonna have one hella freak-out when you call. Here take my cell and give them a shout. I'll check on Max and give you some privacy.” She handed over her phone, stamped out the but of her cigarette and went back into the room. Rachel noticed that the phones background had been changed. Where one she and Chloe had been seen now a doe eyed Max looked off screen. Rachel wasn't sure what she felt about it. While Chloe had always had stronger feelings for Rachel than vice versa it hurt a little to be replaced. Whatever she was moving on so good. She dialled her home phone number and waited. After a few rings the answering machine kicked in. Gah, annoying things, next she tried her dad's mobile, then work where an automated message told her that Mr Amber would be out of the office until the 21st of October. 'Hella time to take a holiday,' thought Rachel, 'Damn now she's got me using it again.'

 

Grudgingly she tried her stepmother's numbers but as pre-recorded messages played out, Chloe stepped out of the room with a phone pressed to her ear. She waved to Rachel but wandered away from her as she spoke “Hey Kate? No, this is Chloe... yes Max's friend...No, she's not awake yet, but I didn't what you to think she was ignoring you, after, you know, everything on Tuesday... You're getting released? That's brilliant, say could you do Max a favour... yeah, she's not very well and she could use a change of clothes... no nothing serious I think but if you could grab a few sets of clothing … No, we're in a motel off 101... Norman's Motel... no you don't have to... That's hella kind of you. I'll get Maxaroni to call you when she's up. Bye Katie-pie.”

 

The punk turned back to Rachel and smiled, “Max was right she's too good for this world. Well that's you threads sorted. Kate's bringing some clothes and I know Max's will fit you. Now just nom's and a shower and all's good.”

 

“And I've still gotta talk to my dad. Seems like he's away for a while.” Rachel added. Chloe gave a 'well shit' look before Rachel continued, “So how do you know for sure Max's clothes will fit me? And who's Kate.”

 

The smirk Chloe that emerged when Rachel asked about the clothes melted into a sad, ashamed look at the mention of Kate. “ She's a friend of Max. After you disappeared she was the next to be taken, but to get her they drugged her at a party. While she was trippin someone videoed her stripping at the party and kissing a bunch of boys. They bullied her so badly that she nearly jumped off the tower in the dorms. Just before that she called Max for help, and l the selfish ass I am I bitched at her for trying to help the poor girl rather than concentrate on me.”

 

Rachel was startled at that last statement of Chloe's. It was possibly the first time she had heard the punk admit fault. Admittedly it was a subject very close to home for Chloe as it was the reason the pair had met up. Obviously even now it was still a raw nerve for her and the fact she had nearly caused or helped some one to the low point she knew so well scared and shamed her. To try and cheer her up she asked the other question again, even though she could guess the answer. “But how do you know Max's clothes fit me?”

 

As expected this got a grin back on the bluenette's face, even if it was not as broad as before. “After we broke into Well's office to look for info about what had happened to you we kinda went for a swim in the pool. However, we got chased off campus by step-douche and his posse so she crashed at my place.”

 

“Ooh, you moved fast” Rachel lightly teased, but as surprised by the reaction. A nearly instant and complete red face, followed by stammered and over emphatic denials. Something happened, but nothing she was willing to admit, and the light touch to her lips before she continued gave the blonde some clue, “Since all her clothes stank of chlorine she borrowed some of the dud's you'd left behind. A bunch of people mistook her for you.”

 

While Rachel's style was hardly unique in somewhere with a decent social scene in a small hick town like Arcadia Bay she'd obviously made a mark. She'd take her victories where she could get them, and hoped that she could improve and make an equal mark in bigger ponds. She already had some thoughts on how she could use this mess to help her along that path. Immediate concerns however took precedence with a loud rumbling from he stomach. “I'll check on sleeping beauty if you go get some grub.”

 

Chloe nodded and wandered off to find food and Rachel when back into the room and as she entered she saw the small brunette stirring. She waved and when over saying “Morning sleeping beauty, wondering if I'd have to give you a kiss to get you up.”

 

Max blushed and looked away coyly, looking a lot better that she had the night before, mind you being conscious was a huge improvement an the blush had given her a it more colour in her face. Rachel also noted that Max didn't recoil in horror at the prospect but just looked like it was the first time someone ever offered her a kiss. Maybe there was something here she could work with as well. Max shyly glanced at the blonde but said nothing so Rachel continued, “How ya feeling?”

 

“Better, thanks and you?” Max asked back, though it was a casual question her body language screamed nervousness and unease, hugging herself and not quite meeting Rachel's eyes being the most blatant signs. Rachel sat at foot of the brunette's bed and pressed on hoping to get the girl to warm up to her “Great, I'm free and once Chloe comes back with food I'm sure I'll feel almost human again. I'm told I have you to thank for a large part in that.”

 

Max's blush deepened to the point that many of her freckles were disappearing, but she seemed to relax a bit at the thanks. Her reply was so quiet it almost went unheard, “I was nothing.”

 

“ It was not nothing. You broke into school, and the lair of a madman who for all you knew killed me to find out where I was. Then you drove through the night to a loony bin to break me out and pushed yourself so far you collapsed on us. If you hadn't risked your life, I'd still be there going nuts for real.”

 

While she was speaking Rachel kept any eye on Max and noticed her visibly flinch when the words 'killer' and 'pushed yourself'. Had someone been killed? And what had Max's pushing herself led to? Max started to slide back into the darker place she had been in so Rachel tried to lighten the mood by saying, “ Though after what I saw and what I heard Chloe say last night I'm not sure I'm not already barking mad.”

 

That statement had an immediate result even if was not the intended one. Her head snapped round to look at Rachel so fast there was an audible crack and stared at the wannabe model like a deer (or doe) in a headlight. After a dozen heartbeats Rachel could see beating in the smaller brunette's neck she looked away again and nervously asked “Why do you say that?”

 

It was obvious to Rachel that Max knew exactly what she was talking about but wanted to see how much Rachel had found out before sharing anything. Rachel debated about trying to be subtle but decided against it. “ You knew the layout of the prison despite never being there, you were next to me one moment and then you where on the other side of the door, and Chloe said you could …”

 

“Time travel.” Max finished. Her expression changed from nervous to simply resigned. It was clear she didn't what anyone else to know about it and was probably a little annoyed at Chloe for letting it slip. She half wondered if the brunette was on something stronger that the joint Rachel smoked the night before, but if it was true... “You think I'm on drugs, but hope it's true. Okay, some proof, er, turn on the TV. The first channel is Judge Judy, the defendant is guilty and she make her pay $1400 in damages, the next channel up is some infomercial thing selling nose hair trimmers for $35.99 plus shipping. Then a soap opera, he's not the father, and then some really gross porn.”

 

With that she fell back into the pillows looking as exhausted as before. Rachel hadn't notice her lean forward but grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels. By the time she got to the fat, sweaty guy pounding a plastic playboy bunny she was pretty much convinced but as she tried to switch the TV off the remote disappeared from her hand. She turned and looked at Max, who smiled and reached under her pillow and with a smile removed the missing device.

 

Rachel's jaw dropped, she was... it was... no fucking way. An incredulous grin started growing on her face when Chloe burst into the room with her usual lack of subtlety. However as she glanced around at the scene in front of her she pouted and in a whiny voice complained, “No fair, getting started without me. Let me put the food down and lets get naked!”

 

The bluenette put the cartons of food down and reached down to pull her shirt off. Rachel was not surprised to see the blush on Max's face and her turn away stabbing the power button on the remote, but did note her eyes remained on the bluenette. Rachel was unsure how far Chloe was going to go while teasing the petite brunette, but was always glad to seem more of Chloe. She was betrayed by her own body as her stomach gave a loud grumble which killed the mood stone dead. Chloe laughing handed her one of the cartoons of food saying “I thought you were going to gobble up some Maxaroni, but not a cannibalistic way.”

 

Rachel gratefully took the box and started to wolf it down, the breakfast burger ripped apart and barely touching the sides as it went down. Max conversely picked at her food, while Chloe spoke quick sentences between mouthfuls. “That's better, but got some bad news. The trucks being tetchy. Not sure she'll get us back to Arcadia.”

 

The blonde had finished her burger and was eyeing the brunette's, but chipped in “Could Kate take us back?”

 

This got Max's attention, “Kate? Is she okay? How could she take us back, she's still in hospital. She ..”

 

Before Max could get into any more of a panic, Chloe butted in, “Chillax, She's fine. She called while you were asleep so I picked up the call. She's been let out of hospital and has offered to bring you some fresh clothes, given yours are a little bloodstained. She's also grabbing some for Rache, hope you don't mind. ”

 

As Chloe talked Max relaxed and fell back relieved into the pillows, glancing down at the murder scene that was her t-shirt. Once mollified she started picking at her food again and after another quick look at the punk she said with a tired grin, “You may want to get some clean clothes yourself.”

 

Looking down Chloe noticed a long mustard stain now gracing her shirt, dripping down from the skull motif's forehead, “Maybe, I call Mom and see if she can bring the tools I need to fix the beast as well, hopefully my step- fuhrer didn't take them all when she kicked him out.”

 

She got out her phone and looked at the screen before swearing, “Shit, I gotta have 60 messages and missed calls since last night... most are from Mom. I gotta call her.”

 

She turned away and made the call, the moment it connected everyone in the room could hear Jocye's voice over the phone as she called her daughter's name. After that they only heard her rebellious daughter's side of the conversation. “Yeah... Mom... We're safe... Yes she's with me... No we're in a motel off 101... Mom listen.... WHAT? Is everyone okay?... Shit, will he be … Thank god... I didn't like him, sure, but I didn't want him, you know … I know... Shit, really, damn... Mom the reason we weren't in Arcadia was because we found a clue ablout Rachel... we went off to rescue her but my truck's broken down... Yeah Max's fine, well she could use a shower and a change of clothes... No I've got that sorted, but if you could bring me some clean clothes... okay cleaner clothes and the tools I think we're good. … Yes Mom, I know and I love you too.”

 

The last past was whispered, though everyone heard it and independently decided to never mention it. After hanging up Chloe gave a big sigh and swore but without of her usual piss and vinegar, “Well shit. Well Max your text worked. David raided the Dark Room with the cops but things went to shit. Turns out Nathan was working with Jefferson and...”

 

She paused to scrub her face, but Rachel thought the reason was more likely to be to give her time to process what she had heard. She picked up that someone had got hurt, they were male, Chloe didn't like them and she had called her step-father by his name didn't leave much of a deductive leap to figure it out who. “David got shot, he's in hospital, but should be fine. Seems that sick fuck kidnapped Victoria and killed Nathan.”

 

No one in the room was happy now.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that escalated. I was expecting to put this out last weekend but it kept on growing and I couldn't find a decent cut off point.


	3. Chapter 3

_Freed_ _om for most,_  

 _is a_ _word like_ _toast._  

 _But you take it away…_  

 

Rachel tried vainly to remember the rest of the song's lyrics but failed. What did she expect, to perfectly recall lyrics to a song she heard stoned while making out with Frank in the back of his grubby, no make that filthy, RV. Even thinking about it made her feel dirty. Good thing she was already in the shower. The things she did for free drugs. Anyway, back to her original thought, freedom. A year ago, it was just a word, not like toast, not a physical thing that she had seen and felt, but something more like Albuquerque, The theory of relativity or true love. They were concepts, disconnected from her reality. She’d never experienced them, just read about them. If she went to Albuquerque, saw, smelt and had more than theoretical knowledge of it, Albuquerque would just be a word.  

Freedom was now more than just a word. She'd had it before the hospital, back when it was just a word, but after having it taken away, it became more than a word. Its absence had made its meaning, its essence, something almost tangible to Rachel. This revelation had changed her, made her re-evaluate her priorities. Her number one priority was to make sure she never lost her freedom again. And the key to that freedom was a small freckled girl lying on a bed outside. Rachel had to make Max want to never leave Rachel and to keep her safe.  

 

Getting out of the shower she figured she may as well start laying some groundwork. Instead of putting her hospital clothes back on she tied a towel around her in such a way to show enough skin to tease and hint at what lay beneath but not enough to be scandalous. A quick look in the mirror to arrange her hair and she stepped out to find the room much fuller than she expected.  

 

Sitting on the bed next to Max was another smaller girl, blonde hair piled up in a bun on top of her head, and by the door was a nerdy looking guy with wavy brown hair. Both gave her an equally startled look as she came out but these morphed into very different expressions. The blonde began to look more concerned but not in a disgusted way as conservative dress sense and crucifix may have implied. The boy by the door was simpler, raw if highly embarrassed lust was rolling off him as he turned away, stealing glances at the flesh being displayed. Max was still on the bed but looking better, her perpetually clueless expression stayed in place but subtly shifted as the cause of her confusion changed before finally saying” Oh, this is Kate and that's Warren. Guys this is Rachel Amber.”  

 

The two new teenagers in the room wore similar puzzles expression as they fished through their memories, trying to put the name and face together with where they had come across it before with Warren connecting the pieces first. After smacking his hand, he gestured at Rachel saying, “You're the poster girl.”  

 

Even though Rachel beamed a little, she realised it was probably not the kind of poster she wanted to be on. Kate, now clued in as to who Rachel she was, added, “Thank God you're okay. I've prayed for your safe return.”  

 

Rachel thought she probably had prayed like a good little girl but if god existed he was a right bastard for letting her get taken to the hospital in the first place. Instead of voicing her theological beliefs she said instead “Don't thank god, thank Max. Mind you she…”  

 

“Was just helping Chloe.” Max interrupted. Rachel noticed the small brunette’s slight panic and the tell-tale hand movement that indicated time travel had occurred. Why was she so alarmed? Rachel was just going to say… oh, they didn't know Max could rewind. Interesting. While Rachel was thinking Max had continued, “She was the one looking, I just … helped out a bit. She's the one who has been searching nonstop since Rachel went missing.”  

 

“Really, but she looks so … scary.” Warren said, obviously wary of the punk but trying not to say anything to offend. Rachel knew what he meant, Chloe would often scare people with both her ‘tat’s and ‘tude’ and could be physically violent if pushed into a corner but also knew insulting Chloe in front of Max was a bad idea. “Ah, her bark is worse than her bite. Rub her the wrong way and she’ll growl at you, but rub her the right way and she turns to putty in your hands.”  

 

Both Max and Warren blushed while the blonde’s expression remained more neutral, with a mind obviously cleaner than the other two. Cute, innocent and religious, all the more fun to corrupt. Before Rachel could go any further down that train of thought Max slowly sat up and pushed a bag towards her. “Here, these are some of my clothes you can wear until you can get some of your own. Help yourself first, I’ll shower and change once you’re done.”  

 

As she leant over to take the bag, giving Kate and Max a gratuitous look down her towel, she could hear the disappointment coming from Warren as she retreated to the bathroom. As she guessed the clothes were very much Max’s style, unbranded jeans, simple t-shirts, plain hoodies and underwear she expected no one to see. After pulling on some underwear and jeans she decided that there was no way the bras would fit her, if she was that small why bother, and selected the smallest t-shirt as it would at least put her assets on display. The quicker she started to work on Max, the quicker she could start reaping the benefits, and if she could get Warren on side as well she could use him to help keep her grades up, assuming he was as big a nerd as he looked.  

 

She exited the room a little less brazenly after her last surprise, but only found the two girls and Warren quietly chatting, and from the sounds of it she was telling them the story of how they had rescued her. The tale was familiar, but it was enlightening how Max’s version differed from Chloe’s. the punk had made it sound like someone describing an action spy movie, full of heroes and villains, thrilling escapes and brushes with death. Max’s was a lot less exciting but much more informative. She went into the reasons and motivations, explaining the how’s and why’s of the story so far.  

 

By the time she had got to the part of story where they were breaking into the hospital, she was looking tired again. Maybe because of the stress her powers caused, maybe due to blood loss, lack of decent food and sleep, something else or a combination of some or all of the above. Anyway, Rachel jumped in at this point, “Would you like me to continue while you take a shower?”  

 

She nodded gratefully, muttering thanks as she slowly got up and started making her way to the bathroom as Rachel picked up the tale. She spun it so that it was more of a thriller/ drama with herself as the wronged woman struggling against a cruel and heartless conspiracy lead by dastardly villains and a corrupt and unjust system. It was kind of fun and good practice as Rachel guessed she would have to tell this story quite a few more times in the foreseeable future, and more if she decided to milk it for all it was worth. Which she probably would as it would very likely help her plans for the future as it would definitely make state news and probably national due to Mark Jefferson’s fame. Some people may need to be paid off to keep their mouths shut, but this hard luck story could be used to propel her into the limelight. Kate was a brilliant audience, as she wore her heart on her sleeve, and oohed and ahhed at all the right moments. Warren made the noises as well, but his eyes had a habit of dipping below her neckline every so often. Well if she put things on display she couldn’t complain if people looked.  

 

As she was finishing she could hear Chloe talking/arguing (same thing most of the time) with someone. She could make out who but turned to see Chloe open the door. As she walked in she could hear the other person saying “I had to cancel a shift to come here and you know we can’t aff… 

 

The other person Rachel recognised as Chloe’s mother. She came in obvious annoyed by having to come to some dingy motel to pick up her wayward daughter, but stopped when she saw Rachel. She literally stopped everything, walking, talking, moving, seemingly even breathing. After a few seconds of … well nothing Rachel piped up, “Hello Mrs Madsen.”  

 

This seemed to rouse the older woman who moved towards the blonde, arms extended, before enveloping the younger one in her arms. As the older woman cradled in Rachel in her arms she started repeatedly muttering “You’re okay, you’re safe.”   

 

Rachel later realised it was as much for her own sake as Rachel’s, as losing her daughter must be one of her biggest fears, but at the time Rachel’s mind had blanked, unsure of what was happening or what she was feeling. Unlike most of the times she’d been embraced it was utterly chaste, but there was warmth and heart she had never felt before. She melted into the embrace and surprising herself started crying. Now Rachel could cry on cue, a useful skill which had got her out of trouble countless times, but these came unbidden and would not stop. They emerged slowly and quietly at first but as they flowed they built momentum and soon flooded out in wracking sobs. After a few minutes she’d calmed down enough continue a normal conversation and explain to Chloe’s mother what had happened. Though it was a more factual retelling than before, her tear streaked face and wavering and highly emotional voice made it a suitably dramatic version.  

 

She’d finished Max emerged from the bathroom and Joyce started fussing over her. While she looked better than she had done, Joyce went into full mother hen mode over the pair of them. Kate tried to help out and Warren faffed around unsure of what to do and probably feeling out numbered by all the women in the small room. As he waited for something to happen his phone buzzed. As he pulled his phone from his pocket, Max and Joyce’s phones rang as well followed by Kate’s. They all shared a worried look as hands went to pockets and started listening.  

 

Rachel couldn’t pick out the conversations but the odd words and phrases kept repeating with “No, I’m okay.” being the most common response and various statements that they were not in Arcadia at the moment. Chloe was looking increasing worried, glancing between her mother and Max, unsure of what was going on. Max picked up on her concern and indicated the TV and eleven with her fingers. The bluenette grabbed the remote and jabbed the power button. The tv sprang to life and was quickly changed to the correct channel.  

 

The Tv showed a new reporter talking, the tagline splashed behind read “Tornado in the Arcadia Bay” while in the corner pictures showed a huge swirling mass of air and water out at sea seemingly take from phone cameras, there was even some shaky video footage. Even without the sound it looked terrifying. Rachel was glad Chloe’s shitty truck had broken down as they would be in the middle of it. Turing to the rest most looked horrified, Max looked like she was going to faint, she dropped her phone and started curling into a ball on the floor, muttering “Oh god I forgot. I’m sorry, god how could forget. I’m sorry, please forgive me.”  

 

Most of the room didn’t notice too busy on their phones or watching the TV, but once Chloe did she rushed to her on the floor and started comforting the sobbing girl they stopped as well and for what felt like an eternity the only sound people could hear was the sobbing of the broken girl.  

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn’t as long as I was expecting given how the previous chapters grew as I wrote them. The reason it took so long was the fact I now have a job again, yay employment, I got a haircut (the longer my hair the easier I find it to write, but the more headaches I get), and the fact I’ve nailed down the ending. 
> 
> Comment please on what you think of this version of Rachel. I'm curious as to how she's coming across, and how well I'm getting portraying her character, history and motivations.


	4. Chapter 4

**October 21st 2013**

So I’ve started this diary. Took the idea from Max after seeing her scribble away I hers. When I asked her about it she said she started as a way to get things off her chest when she had no one she could talk to back in Seattle. She also said it was a great way of organising her thoughts and experiences with all the time travel shit she did. Doubt I’ll have to worry about that but the first thing may be useful. I don’t want to talk to any more shrinks after the centre, and I can’t talk to anyone but Chloe and Max about her rewinds without getting sent to the shrinks, and there are some things I don’t want them to know. So that leaves you dear diary.

Anyway it’s about a month after the storm and I’ve spent most the time since getting freed from that shit hole of a hospital at home or at various lawyer’s offices or police stations giving statements, depositions and the such. The multiple shopping sprees have been fun, as my dearest stepmother, Janice, threw out most of my stuff months ago, but to be honest it dull as all hell. I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I’m looking forward to going back to school. Surprised the shit out of everyone when I told them I wanted to go back to Blackwell, but there are good reasons to go back.

Namely Max, her powers and how to best use them. She’s not been incredibly forthcoming about what she can do, but what I’ve managed to piece together from what she and Chloe have said is that it’s limited to a few minutes at a time, she can grab objects and keep them, as well as the teleport thing. She’d make a kickass thief but doubt I could get her to do anything like that, gambling may work but I think it would depend on the game. Best bet would be stocks or gambling for a quick buck. It’s not only the cash to consider. Used right I could make convince anyone to do what I want, get out of trouble before it began, literally dodge bullets. The possibilities are endless.

 

**November 4th 2013**

 Well first day back in Blackhell, as Chloe put it, and it’s weird to be here again. It’s many shades of weird to be honest, no uncanny is a much better word for it. Thing are as I remembered them, but off. People and places are missing or changed, looks I got from people passing are still there, but the expressions are different. Blackwell is a good example as even though it suffered only minor damage, because the storm seemed to just stick to the coastline, there are still scars on the building. However once inside does the uncanniness become more apparent, with nearly deserted corridors and subdued students shuffling around. Many parents pulled their kids out after the revelations of Jeffersons actions came to light and the storm probably didn’t help either. Even the once-proud and powerful Vortex club is barely recognisable, with out the Prescott money or Victoria’s drive it's barely functioning. It’d be the perfect time to take over if I had any desire, I love partying but organising them isn’t my bag.

Despite the mood in Blackwell the official ‘mourning period’ is over. The only two of the dead I knew from school where Hayden and Alyssa and I didn’t feel like mourning them, and the only other I could have put a name to was Frank and to be honest it was more of a blessing than a curse that his grungy ass was dead. Few questions that way. Wonder is the gloom is being made worse by the short days and long nights of winter.

Another weirdness is Chloe and Max. I’ve been chatting to them online since we separated after the storm and everything was cool, but now we’re all back together … everything is off. The two are on edge, like something huge is being unsaid so loud it deafening and I don’t know what it is. Time will tell.

 

 **November** 16th **2013**

 I am such a moron. The weirdness between me, Chloe and Max was so damn obvious and I missed it. It explains why the last months efforts have been in vain and why all my flirting with Max has been ignored so completely. She’s been crushing hard on Chloe, god I notice that before the storm, hell it’ probably more than just a crush. However she thinks Chloe and I are an item, hell Chloe probably thinks the same, and she wants her beloved to be happy so she hasn’t acted on her feelings. Chloe on the other hand is torn between I what I guess is a form of loyalty to me, we had a relationship first even if it probably wasn’t what she thinks it was, and her feelings for Max.

From what I can tell they have been dancing around this crap since I left, getting no closer to solving this tangled knot they’ve been tying themselves in. Normally I’d steer clear of this kinda thing but if I wanna get Max I’m going to have to work this one out. I can’t get Max without getting rid of Chloe but I can’t dump Chloe, cause Max will hate me for breaking her heart.

 

 **November** 28th **2013**

 I’ve solved it, well most of it. I am now part of a polygamous relationship with Chloe and Max. It was, I suppose, unsurprisingly easy to convince them to do it. Max’s initial hesitation was swept away by Chloe’s kiss, which started as a quick smooch but ended up as one of the sloppiest make out sessions I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness. I felt a little bad for interrupting them, saying I felt left out, but Max is my ticket to making sure I’m never helpless and caged again. I will do anything and everything to make sure it **NEVER** happens again and some embarrassment or hurt feelings are a small price to pay.

 

**November 29th 2013**

 Okay first threesome with two girls and while it’s better than one with two boys it’s still not as good as the hype. It was nice when both were focused on me but everyone wanted their turn and trying to set it up so we were all giving and receiving was either uncomfortable or required someone suspended from the ceiling. Well maybe with practice we can work it out. Interestingly while Chloe was her usual enthusiastic self in bed with me , with Max she was … tender, gentle. Given how nervous Max was I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I’ve never seen Chloe like that. I guess Max is something special to her. Max herself so god damn hesitant I practically had to grab her hands and put them where I wanted before she’d do anything, but at least she’s the same with Chloe, so I guess it was nerves.

 

 **December** 3rd **2013**

 Man are those two easy to manipulate. Found the pair of them making out without me, and a little pout and fake tears got them to lavish me with attention for the evening, as well as promises to get individual attention from them later. I’ll get Chloe out of the way quickly, but spend my time with Max. It’s clear that I’m the free coleslaw that comes as part of the meal deal, but she’s beginning to associate me with good times. The few times we’ve got drunk and stoned she’s enjoyed herself but I’m gonna need to step up my game if I’m gonna win her away from Chloe. I’ve got some ideas on how to do that but they’ll have to wait until after the holidays.

 

 **December** 9th **2013**

 I swear I’m never letting Max go. I was lying in after a a session with my two girlfriends the night before when Max pulls the pair of us of my bed. Seconds later Brooke’s drone crashed through the window, showering my bed with glass and.spinning drone parts. Judging by how long it took us to calm down Max our injuries must have been bad. I have got to make this girl mine and make sure she never leaves my side. Ever.

 

 

 **December** 21st **2013**

 Well the holidays have started and it’s nice to be away from Blackwell. I can be a bit more myself in different ways. Don’t get me wrong it’s I’ve got more freedom there than at home, but since Arcadia is such a small town it’s a lot more difficult to do some things without the whole town finding out and with Chloe and Max I have to play the faithful girlfriend. At home I have to play the dutiful daughter. At school I can drink, smoke, swear, dress how I like and a dozen other things I can’t do at home. Hell the only thing I can’t do at school is sleep around. If I’m subtle about it I can do it at home, lord knows my parents do, but in Arcadia word would get back to my meal ticket.

But as soon as Chloe and Max dropped me off at Portland to get my flight as they go up to stay with Max’s family I’m truly free. What did I do with my freedom? The hunky looking guy in seat 42 C, and the guy in 38 E on the flight from Denver. Nothing like a good hard fucking to celebrate… well anything. Mind you Mr 42C was less fucking and more animalistic rutting and 38E didn’t do quite enough to get me off but either way it put me in a good enough mood to greet my step mother with a smile. The rest of the holidays weren’t a complete bust as I got dad to set me up with a day trading account, but they were ‘hella boring’ as Chloe would put it.

**January 10th 2014**

 Got my revenge on Brooke for the drone incident, pity it didn’t quite go as planned. Laced her body wash with dye that should have turned her skin an interesting shade of green, and to be fair it did. Problem was she decided to take a shower with her new boyfriend, Warren, who turn out to have incredibly sensitive skin. He’s so sensitive he had to go to ER and spend a night in hospital but he’ll live so all’s well that ends well.

 

 **January** 24th **2014**

 Well that worked better than expected, between me and Max we managed to convince Chloe to get a job, and I used a favour or two and got her one at Captain Jim’s. Thing is since Chloe isn’t old enough to serve alcohol she has to do all the scut work, collecting empty glasses and bottles, cleaning the toilets, washing the dishes and the place is a dive of epic proportions so she is constantly harassed and demeaned by both the customers and other staff. It’s also great because she starts work as Max and I get off school and is exhausted, both mentally and emotionally, when she gets back. All this means more solo Max time for me.

 

 **January** 31st **2014**

 After a little experimentation with Max, and not the fun kind in bed, we’ve discovered the best way to make money online. Most games of chance are a out, roulette, craps, even black jack. The poker games worked to an extent if we got a good hand to begin with, but we need practice playing the game, learning how to bet big without everyone folding and a bigger pot, before it’ll become a consistent earner. Horse races have potential as well, but they seem to push her powers to their limit of how far back she can go.

 

 **March** 7th **2014**

As successful at the all the stuff I’ve done so far has been it’s still not enough. The three way arrangement is still going and Chloe is still working but Max is still stubbornly focusing on her and not me. They’re relationship isn’t going to fall apart without help, so help I must. Fortunately there is a something that will help. The end of school and going to college. I can use this to play into Chloe’s abandonment fears and help Max make a clean break.

 

 **March** 1st **2014**

 I’ve got her doubting, but not enough. Unless it comes from Max herself it won’t do any good, and she’s not going to say it, let alone abandon her again. Even after blazing arguments that can be hear three doors down they make up in a flood of tears and what I can guess is the most amazing makeup sex, judging by the sounds coming from the room and goofy grins afterwards. Something more … permanent needs to be done.

 

 

April 13th 2014

 **A drunken teenager died after falling from the cliff** **at the Arcadia Bay Lighthouse**

Chloe Elizabeth Price, 19, is believed to have slipped and fell from a the cliffs by the Arcadia Bay Lighthouse.

The "lively and energetic " teen was twice the legal driving limit for alcohol when she fell. She was one of the people who rescued Rachel Amber from the Shady Oaks Centre last year which lead to the arrest of Mark Jefferson and the downfall of the Prescott property empire.

She suffered a fatal head wound in the fall. Detective Ryan has stated that her death is most likely accidental and no suspects are being sought.

The lighthouse is a popular party spot for the towns youth, and the police have been called to it on numerous occasions due to complaints from residents and concerns over fires going out of control.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. A mix of no long train or ferry journeys, boiling oil and more work has put writing on the back burner, but since I wanted to finish this before playing 'before the storm', its release has kinda lit a fire under my arse to get it done.


	5. Chapter 5

The end of school bell was normally a joyous sound to any student, but Rachel was ambivalent about it. Yes, it meant she wouldn’t get bored by the drone of her teachers, but it also meant she had to go back to Max. She should have been glad to see her ‘girlfriend’, but the death of their other ‘girlfriend’, Chloe, had hit really Max hard. The first three days Max had done nothing but cry, both when awake and asleep. The only times she didn’t cry was when she was moaning about how she should have been there to save Chloe, for the umpteenth time. 

After Max had cried herself out of tears she started replacing the lost liquid with alcohol. Beer, wine, hard liquor it didn’t matter. She also hit the weed hard, worse than Chloe or even Justin, rarely turned up to classes and was largely unresponsive. After a week without a shower Rachel had led her to the showers and physically wash her because otherwise Max would have just stool under the shower, got wet and then walked out. As Rachel washed the unresponsive brunette she tried to brush over Max’s more sensitive spots, trying to get a response. Max just stood there like a sex doll, not giving any indication she was enjoying it nor trying to get Rachel to stop. 

The few occasions she roused from her zombie like stupor it was to snap at those trying to comfort her. Teachers, fellow students it didn’t matter. She even told Kate to “fuck off” when the Christian said that Chloe was in a better place. The only person who she didn’t snap at was Chloe’s mother, Joyce. This was possibly because she was the only other person, Max felt, who was in as much pain as she was. 

In some ways this was helping Rachel as it was isolating Max from her friends and making her more reliant on Rachel, but the amount of effort it was taking just to keep Max going was exhausting. Making sure she ate, showered, got to at least some classes, had enough booze and weed to get through the day and to sleep at night, it was like being her parent not her girlfriend. Besides the whole point of everything Rachel had done was so that Max would take care of her. She though it  some weapons grade irony. 

As Rachel wandered back to her, and Max’s given how much she was over there, room. She chatted with Justin and scored some weed as her skinny brunette girlfriend had probably smoked what was left of her stash today, but as she was chatting she saw Joyce coming out of the dorms, supported by the sergeant step douche (guess Chloe lives on with her nick names). After trading mutual greetings, sympathies and platitudes, Joyce explained she was dropping off a few of Chloe’s things that she thought Max should have. Rachel noticed that it was for Max, not for her or both of them, just Max. Not that she wanted any of Chloe’s things but there should have been some crappy knickknack from her.  Rachel guessed that they liked Max more than her, probably due to their longer friendship and Max’s more calming influence on the punk. As they said their goodbyes Chloe’s stepfather, who had been unusually quiet, looked like he was he was going to say something. Judging by the expression on his face it wasn’t going to be pleasant, but Joyce laid a hand on his shoulder and he just deflated looking defeated. 

As she walked away she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed and robbed. Tweaking the up tight security guard was one of her favourite hobbies, but after Chloe’s death he had just given up. To rising to her efforts to get him into a rage, stomping and snorting around like an angry bull, had all failed, earning little more than disappointed looks rather than red faced indignation. She wondered what she’d have to do to get her rage fix. She pondered that as she when back to her room, waving at what few students were still out. She also wondered what Max was given and what she could use. 

As she opened the door to her room Rachel was unsurprised to see Max in there, but she wasn’t sprawled on the bed or curled into the couch as usual. She was sat at Rachel’s desk with a spray of photographs in front or her, unmoving as Rachel came in. The blonde walked over to the bed and collapsed onto it before saying, “God Ms Dewitt’s class was boring today, if I hear one more thing about Macbeth today I’ll scream.” 

Max remained unresponsive, so Rachel looked over to see she was staring at one of the photos. “Whatcha looking at?” 

She rolled off the bed and moved behind Max, but as she put her arms round the smaller brunette, Max disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the room, photo still in hand. The seeming casual use of her powers was unusual and the avoidance of physical contact was a little insulting to Rachel . They had been intimate a few time since Chloe’s death but Rachel always had to instigate it, and Max was never really gotten into it, usually lying there like a sex doll while Rachel worked on her. She had never completely rejected Rachel though and this complete rejection unsettled her a little. What had changed? 

While giving Max a hurt look she noticed that Max was wearing Chloe’s three bullet necklace and as she looked  down at the photographs on the table she saw there were all of Chloe and Max. They ranged from ones taken of the pair as kindergarten kids to early teens. There were even a few recent ones, but not taken by Max’s practiced eye but snapped by others because most of Max’s had been in her room and therefore destroyed by the storm. Despite the differences in the age of the photographs, the quality of the shot the one thing that was common to all of them was the love for each other. She picked a random photo and looked at it. It showed the two snugged in bed together as kids, the larger girl seemingly protecting the smaller cradled in her arms. “Man, you two are cute in this shot.” 

She held it up to show Max, only for it to be ignored in favour of the Polaroid she’d been starting at when Rachel had entered. After a long sigh Rachel discarded it and picked another picture randomly, one of the three of them on the beach, then held it up for Max to see. “Do you remember …” 

That was as far as she got before the photo in her hand turned into shredded scraps, most likely by the seemingly unmoved Max. ‘Well that got a reaction, not one I could see, but a reaction none the less.’ Rachel though to herself, wondering what had happened in the past future Max had experienced but Rachel had not. Given the photo confetti, she figured Max had thrown a wobbly over Chloe, again. Her life was a torn up photo or some such emo shit. Instead of  trying to pacify or soothe Max, as she had likely done previously in the now non-existent future, she figured she’d try a different, more aggressive, approach. 

“I know you loved Chloe and now she’s gone you’re in pain, but please remember I loved Chloe too.” This got a reaction, but only barely. Max lifted her head slightly and gave Rachel a puzzled look, like this was news to her. Rachel, buoyed by her success, continued this line. “I know I didn’t have as much of a history with her as you, and I’m not going to try and compete with you in grief, but I’m hurting too.” 

“You loved Chloe.” Max said, as if testing the statement out loud, trying it out in the real world rather than just the one inside her head. She didn’t seem to quite believe it so Rachel pressed on. “Yes, it may have been a different kind of love than the type you shared with her, but I loved her. Like I love you.” 

Rachel threw that last bit in on a whim but on a moments reflection decided it was a good idea. It brought the conversation into the present and possible future. Rachel stared at Max hoping she returned those three words. The ‘L’ word had never been shared between them, but she had heard Max and Chloe share it when she wasn’t supposed to be listening. If she could get it out of Max it meant her hold was growing on the fragile brunette. She looked up again with that quizzical expression, as if Rachel was revealing the hidden mysteries of the universe in a duck costume. “You love me? Don’t you mean my powers?” 

Rachel’s gut turned to ice and her eyes flicked involuntary to the desk draw where her journal was hiding. It still seemed locked up but she could exactly check without giving away its existence. Rachel tried to calm herself and carry on like nothing was wrong. In the time took for her eyes to flick down and back up again Max seemed to have gotten worse. She was now more dishevelled, face streaked with tears and generally back sliding to her default state after Chloe’s death. “I love all of you, from the freckles on your butt to  the not quite snoring you do when you’ve got to sleep after drinking to much. So yeah I love your powers but only because they come attached with the cute girl I would do anything for.” 

Max sat and thought for a while before glitching as Rachel called the change when Max shifted due to her travelling in time. The change however was just the minor shift in position but a huge change in  her physical (and probably mental) state. Her clothes were torn and her shirt was covered in more blood than the trickle from her nose would account for. She also seemed to have a black eye forming. Unless someone broke into the room Rachel realised she was the only person who could have cause it, and the only reason she would do that was if…

“Do you know one of the big differences between the truth and lies?” Max asked, throwing Rachel briefly off her thought. “Lies can be anything, they can be shaped and changed to whatever the person telling the lie want them to be. The truth is more static, unchanging. So if I ask you a question in a multitude ways as the answers are all different…” 

Max let that statement  hang as the ice in Rachel’s stomach started to grow into into an iceberg. Max knew,  and there was no real way for Rachel to talk her way out of this one. In a voice that surprised even the speaker in how normal and steady it was, Rachel asked, “So what happens now?” 

“I don’t know. I might kill you, cut out your heart and rewind. It’s the perfect murder because no one could ever work out how I did it, but then you would be kinda famous as a mysterious, unsolvable death. I also could make it look like suicide or an accident but then you wouldn’t suffer like you should. Ooh, but if I killed you, cut out a bit of your spine and rewound, then you’d be paralysed. Trapped in your own body, dying slowly as your lungs fill with fluid.” Max had the look of someone trying to solve a thought experiment or a difficult crossword question. Her tone was clam and thoughtful, her movements were normal perhaps even more confident than usual, but only her eyes betrayed the hate that burned inside. The doe like eyes that Max had the innocence Rachel so wanted to corrupt now leaked Max’s malevolent intent into the world. “And as much as I want to make you suffer, Chloe would still be dead and that is simply not acceptable. But with this photo I can go back to before we met. Make it so we never crossed paths, and leave you rotting in that hospital.”

Whatever logical parts of Rachel’s brain knew trying to attack a time traveller were silenced by the animalistic blind fear of that place as she launched herself at Max. As the ignored part of her brain would have predicted Max disappeared, and as the first law of motion would have predicted she flew into the full length mirror that was behind the brunette. Thankfully all-consuming panic that silenced Rachel’s higher mental functions did the same to the pain of the multitude of glass shards that pierced her skin and again when her second failed attack pushed them further into her body. The third attack, while intended, failed to even get her off the ground due to the bleeding blonde’s now broken body. 

As Rachel’s more primal side receded and what Max had said began to sink in, tears started forming unbidden, and in gasping sobs she started pleading with Max, “ Kill me, torture me <gasp> I don’t care. Just don’t <gasp> put me back the<gasp>re. Please <gasp> anything <gasp> but <gasp>that.” 

As Rachel sat in and expanding pool of her own blood, she looked up at the usually unimposing brunette. She wanted to plead and beg more but she found herself unable to get enough of a breath to continue. Though her vision darkened she thought she saw Max’s eye lose their fury. She hoped the now sad look in those blue eyes meant she was safe from the hellish place, but as Max was looking at the photo it was probably wishful thinking. 

\--------//---------

October 11, 2013

Shady Oaks Mental Health Centre, 'Rose Jefferson's' Room

 

Rachel Amber was not happy. She hadn't been happy since she had accepted a drink for that little cunt weasel over six months ago then woken up as he was leering over her taking photo's as she was bound and helpless. Despite her restraints she managed to get a few hits in before she got knocked out again. When she woke again she was in this hellhole. While normally she wouldn't mind having all the drugs they were giving her, some of the orderlies kept trying to feel her up and when she fought back she got put in a straightjacket for a week. Worst of all everyone kept trying to tell her she was Jefferson's niece. Urgh, She was into some kinky stuff but she never got the whole incest thing.

 

Her mood was also not helped by the fact that it was late and she couldn't sleep. If she was out of this place she would probably be partying for another few hours, but in here she did nothing all day then was expected to sleep all night. She lay on her bed fuming when she heard something in the corridor. It was not a normal night time sound, like one of the orderlies doing the rounds or one of the bloody owls hooting, but something seemed familiar about it. Getting out for bed she padded over to the door and looked out the little window that denied her any privacy during her day.

 

She couldn't see anything in the corridor but she though she saw something out the window, followed by a flash. She counted to see how far way the lightning had struck, but heard no thunder. She gave up counting at about 30 seconds as she caught a glimpse of movement and was surprised to see someone in the corridor by the window. The door to the corridor was in the opposite direction and none of the cell doors had opened so where did they come from? 

Whoever it was seemed to disappear but after a minute or so a note was pushed under her door. It looked like a page torn out of a sketchbook or diary but the neat script was easy to read in the moonlight. 

_Rachel_

_In 5 minutes I will unlock the door. Go to the window and escape through it. Head north (towards the trees on the left) and keep going. When you get to the road go right and continue until you get to the gas station. There is a pay phone at the back you can use to call the police. If you value your life **do not return to Arcadia Bay.**  _

Rachel could think of no reason to go back to that shit hole and barely contain her excitement as the door clicked she tore out of the room and followed the instructions. Soon she was free a clear of the place and vowed never to return to the town that had landed her in that hell. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn that was difficult to write, not because of the content ( I had fun with Max’s trip to the dark side) just I actually had consistent work for two weeks and every time I tried to sit and write I couldn’t focus. Just the epilogue to go, and hopefully it won’t take as long time to prise out.


	6. Epilogue

She finally had it, an advantage none of her competitors had. After her 15 minutes of fame after escaping the hospital her ‘career’ as a celebrity had slowly been winding down. her modelling jobs never hit the big times like she had hoped, likewise acting jobs never really progressed beyond unspeaking extra or eye candy roles. Her YouTube channel was doing well but had recently been levelling out, and while there had been some interest from some online magazines she needed something big to seal the deal. And now she had it.

Jane Doe. Though her photos were talking the art world by storm, both from her Arcadia Bay collection and the new ‘If you love something…’ series, no one knew the artist behind the pseudonym. She (or he) jealousy guarded her identity, justifying it with the statement that her ( or his) artwork should speak for itself. While she had a connection to Arcadia along with ‘Jane’, even if it wasn’t the most pleasant of ones, her connection to the title image of the new collection.’ If you love something…’ showed an abandoned junkyard bathed in the light of the golden hour. Wrecked cars and discarded objects warmed by the golden sun. What made the photo, however, was the single figure of a girl looking back at all this rubbish. As her face was obscured by light and hair her expression was unknown, which had led to great debate as to what was her mood, melancholic regret for the past or a fond farewell before moving on to the future.

Rachel didn’t really know, either way, what she did know was who the model was and where it was taken. It was Chloe Price, a girl she had had a brief fling with before her life had gone to shit in the bluenette’s ‘home away from hell’, American Rust. This info alone would put her in good stead with some art magazines, but if she could get an interview with Chloe even better. If she could get Jane Doe’s identity she could write her own check. If Chloe was still as desperate for any kind of attention from Rachel or anyone, as she was the blonde could easily pump the info out of her.

Getting in proved more difficult than Rachel would have guessed, but surprisingly dropping Chloe’s name, rather than dropping to her knees, was all it took to get in through the front door. After picking a glass of champagne off one of the servers that were wandering around she started her hunt. So as to not make it too obvious that she was looking for Chloe, thinking and ‘accidental cute meet’ would work better, she spent some time looking at the pictures on the walls. While most were seemingly simple, everyday items or scenes, Jane had captured something unique in all of them. Sometimes the light or shot highlighted or hid parts in normally in view, or the photo takes that one in a million moment that would be gone in a less second, now captured forever as a frozen moment in time.

Upon reaching the title piece she stopped to look at it some more, hoping to find clues she could use. The junkyard was fuller than she remembered it, so it was taken after her capture and given the damage to her shack, it was probably after the storm as well. Chloe didn’t look much different than she remembered so it couldn’t have been too long after. Whatever other clues the picture could give up were forgotten when a shiver ran down her spine, closely followed by the snap whirr of a photo being taken.

Rachel quickly spun to see a short girl shaking out a Polaroid picture. She was wearing a vintage beige leather jacket over a simple white shirt with a dream catcher necklace. Slight faded jeans and old but well looked after converses finished off the ensemble. It gave off an odd, but strangely fitting rich hipster look. Rachel guessed she was someone’s daughter brought to gain some cultural appreciation or to be seen in the right company and setting. Noticing that she had been spotted she gave an apologetic smile and said: “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“If you got my good side it’s okay.” Rachel said hand extended to receive the photo. The girl looked back at her, then to the photo before handing it over. While a confident smile played across her lips it didn’t fully reach her eyes, which seemed far colder than someone her age should have. Slightly unnerved Rachel shifted her eyes to the photo.

It was good, very good. Maybe daddy’s little girl wanted to see real talent and to see how she stacked up against it, but it surprised Rachel as the shot was hugely different from photos normally taken of her. Not only due to the blonde’s expression, as she looked contemplative and thoughtful rather than her neutral expression for modelling or the sultry, ‘come hither’ she wore for her more risqué work. It was also without Rachel’s usual fabricated veneer of easy-going friendship with a touch of flirtatious suggestion that she wore like armour to try and survive in L.A.

“I’ll allow it if you send me a copy.” Rachel said in a faux magnanimous tone, passing the photo back with one of her business cards. The brunette took the card without looking at it, placing it and the photo in her bag, commenting “ I’ll see what I can do. So what had you so captivated by this picture? What do you think the artist is trying to get at?”

Rachel turned back to the photo, try to decide which route to take. The popular opinion or a more contrary one, romantic or cynical. She eventually decided to go for the more contrary one, not only because it would help her stand out more but because she believed it to be the truth. “ I think she’s deluding herself, hoping for something to that can never return to come running back.”

“Hmm, that’s an interesting option. You sound so sure, Why do you think that?” The brunette asked with a smile that implied she knew something that Rachel didn’t. It irked Rachel but without knowing who she was dealing with she wasn’t going to do anything, yet. Turning back to the picture she started explaining her opinion, keenly aware of the other people subtly listening in, “well, I’ll start with the lighting. Golden hour. Although it gives a wonderful warm light, it’s at the end of the day. Next, you have the location. A junkyard, where objects go when they’ve reached the end of their life. Lastly, you’ve got the model. She’s looking back at the at the wreckage, and if you look at her posture, it seems like she’s looking back longingly.”

Rachel’s audience, by the end of her explanation, had given up being subtle and had moved around her and the picture. Most were studying the picture with the new perspective she had given them. While most of the expressions were positive, the brunette’s hadn’t shifted from the smug ‘ I know something you don’t know’. She hadn’t even turned to look at the picture or the crowd gathering around. The girl’s fixation on her as slightly unnerving, but her experiences as a model had hardened her to things like that so she pressed on with her closing argument and her trump card.

“The picture is all about endings. End of the day, end of the objects life. Looking back at the past that will never return.” From the snatches of the whispered muttering Rachel could tell most of the crowd now agreed, “ but I supposed my opinion is a bit biased as I know the location and what it means to the model.”

This not quite name drop definitely got people’s attention, with a dozen question hurled at her from all directions, including one from a famous art critic. She fielded most of the questions about herself freely but those about the picture and Chloe were more noncommittal or vague so as to keep the mystery, and their value, rising. Eventually, she said, “Look, I can just tell all my best friends secrets to everyone, but I see here I’ll introduce you to hear you.”

“Best friend, eh? How’s Chloe been recently Rachel?” the small brunette asked.

Damn, Rachel thought, she knew Chloe as well. This did not bode well for her exclusivity of her interview, and how did this girl know her name. “Oh, are you a fan? What’s your name?”  
The look of barely concealed disgust, when asked if she was a fan succinctly, answered the question, but before the brunette answered the second question a familiar voice behind Rachel said: “Her name is Maxine Caulfield-Price.”

Rachel turned and was a very different Chloe than she was expecting. Instead of the rough ‘tats and tude’ girl decked in rough and torn denim and leather, she was clad in an electric blue short leather coat, under which was a dark blue and black corset that enhanced her … assets. Black leather trousers and boots finished her clothing, but her hair was also different. It had grown out and been braided with each strand dyed a different colour. However, the most radical change in Rachel’s eyes was that of her demeanour. She still had that air of being ready to take on the world, but all the rage at it was gone.

Chloe moved past Rachel and slipped an arm round Maxine’s waist before they exchange a brief on the lips. The smug smile on Maxine’s lips now replaced with a much more natural and happy one before she said “Max, never Maxine. You should know that by now.”

“And you should know ‘No emoji’, but you still use those cursed things all the time.” The words seemed less like an argument and more like a choreographed sparring routine, they engaged in daily. During all this, they seemed oblivious to the surrounding crowd, who seemed unsure what to do. Most seemed eager to ask questions, for an autograph or to propose to the model, however, it as the art critic who managed to get the first question in, which was most likely one that most of the audience wanted the answer to, “What is the photo about? What were you feeling?”

“Well you know the phrase, right? Well I let two things go, one didn’t come back,” Chloe said looking pointedly at Rachel, before turning to Max and looking lovingly into her eyes, “ and one did.”

Rachel looked on as the two turned and started to wander away, arm in arm. Rachel called out to Chloe, “ Chloe … but what about everything we had?”

Chloe froze, her back to Rachel, and thus held Max back as well. The shorter brunette looked at the taller punk with a concerned look, which quickly morphed into a gentle, comforting smile. She whispered something to Chloe before turning back to Rachel and said, “ Let it go, and see if she comes back.”

The two then walked out of Rachel’s life forever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well bugger me (please don’t), I’ve actually finished a multi-part story. While I have every intention of going back and finishing the others I’ve started this story is the first one to get completed. Despite my pride in finishing it, it has irritated me in a few ways. Firstly in how long it took me to complete, I had hoped to have finished this before ‘Before the Storm’ came out. Secondly because of how certain chapters came out and how I would change certain things if I was to rewrite it. But the thing that pissed me off the most was that this supposed to be a quick story that would empty my head of one of the plot bunnies running around it. So naturally, it has spawned another two or more ideas which are charging around my head trying to out-compete the half a dozen or so other ideas already bouncing around. 
> 
> To that end what would you lovely people like me to do next, continue one of my existing works, like ‘The Totem’ or ‘Picking through the pieces’, or one of the newer plot bunnies. Namely ‘The Eden Test’- the students of Blackwell get stranded on a desert, but not deserted, island, ‘Gotham gets stranger’ Max and Chloe travel to Gotham after sacrificing Arcadia Bay, or ‘Prophecies are strange’ (a working title that I hate) while investigating a legend of girls who could ‘control the sun’ Lara Croft meets two teenagers who are conducting an investigation of their own.

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing the trailer for "Before the Storm" I figured I'd better write this plot bunny down before we find out more about Rachel. She has always been the most interesting character to read and write about because she is so central to the plot but we know next to nothing about her that we can be sure about. Most are second-hand or third-hand sources of info from people with an agenda (her best friend or her nemesis). While most fan fiction paints her in a more positive light a lot of the info we find in game is not so complementary so here's my take on her character. 
> 
> For the love of dog comment and feedback please.


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